Without noticeJune 22, 2014
They left without notice, taking only what they could carry. The crucifix still hung on the wall in the bedroom, the record player waited patiently for the drop of a wax record, a perfume bottle left open released its scent.
He found the house when dust had settled on the dressers, the side tables, the sofas. He marveled at the beds left made, the brittle wallpaper, the dishes in the sink made clean by industrious bugs. He wondered how the family had been able to make such a clean getaway. He wondered how they knew the time was right.